Chapter 1028 Enemy Forces Converge

• A sharp whoosh split the air. Countless Willis cultivators streaked toward the glowing perimeter stones that marked the ancient defensive formation.
• The formation—bequeathed by the Sword Patriarch and known as the Heaven-Cleaving Sword Formation—had once been a marvel, its runes alive with argent fire. Twice, during previous midnight assaults, the family had clung to survival only because of that web of blades. But the Patriarch had departed nearly twenty thousand years ago. Time, relentless as the tide, had dulled the sigils; the once-blinding circuits now flickered like dying embers.
• A thunderous boom rolled across the valley. Oppressive auras—each heavier than a mountain range—pressed against the formation, sending multicolored arcs skittering across the dimming ward. Inside, the defenders felt like a lone skiff meeting a world-ending wave.